I always romanticize San Francisco

I began fantasizing about visiting San Francisco when I got an appointment for an audition that would take me to California. My family is there and I began my usual daydreams. Oh, the things that I would do there! I would:

- stroll along the hills near Mount Davidson and sit and journal and think and be nostalgic.
- listen to jazz somewhere in Little Italy, ingesting a cappuccino and cannoli.
- tag along with my family to do suburban errands, like drive to Target, or eat at Red Lobster or Fresh Choice.
- say hello to every stranger in the city who says hello to me, which is everyone.
- take the MUNI to visit my brother at his office downtown
- breakfast at my fave crepe place that to me is so San Fran I just want to bring a laptop and write a book about being San Franciscan as I sit there
- eat Mexican food until I pass out.

The best part is, then I get to San Francisco, and here's always what happens:

- hills? Why would I want to walk the hills when someone can drive me? Eh, it's not worth going up that mountain just to sit. What's the point?
- uh, is there even jazz in Little Italy? Well, there IS one thing, nowhere to park. Forget it.
- why are we going to suburban restaurants when we have the whole city at our fingertips? Let's just get takeout.
- Hello? Who are you? Do I know you? *sigh* At least in New York we're authentically snarky.
- how much is the train again? Is there no way you can drive me downtown? Argh, what a pain in the ass.
- oh, yeah. What makes something "typically" San Franciscan in my experience means it reminds me of high school. And this huge latte in a beer glass reminds me of high school. Let me eat my eggs and go.
- I'll just have a very small burrito, please. No cheese, no guac, no sour cream. I'm trying to lose weight.

Fantasy vs. Reality.

Always a disappointment!!! :)

"My story"

Hi, my name is: Eileen

But you can call me: Eileen, although I have many nicknames.

Never in my life have I: died

The one person who can drive me nuts is: I plead the Fif

My high school is/was: I went to two - St. Agnes Academic and School of the Arts

When I’m nervous: I yawn or cough, it's a gag-reflex thing. Don't know why.

The last song I listened to was: Since losing my iPod I haven't been listening to anything on purpose. On my way to the subway tonight, two or more girls were singing part of the musical Rent in unison, and not just an excerpt. It was all I could do not to turn around and glare at them.

If I were to get married right now it would be to: someone considerate, encouraging, supportive, and great in the sack. :)

My hair is: getting longer.

When I was 4: my mom took a picture of me with a cardboard hat on, sitting on the table next to an ice cream cake with a "4" candle on it, in our one-bedroom apartment.

Last Christmas: I went to my friend's in-laws' house near Philly.

I should be: doin' absolutely nothin'! It's the weekend, baby!

When I look down I see: my shrinking waistline!

The happiest recent event was: booking a TV gig without an audition.

If I were a character on ‘Friends’ I'd be: rich from the residuals. Okay...Ross.

By this time next year: I'll be exclaiming, "Really? A year went by already?" just like I'm doing this year about last year.

My current gripe is: I ditched the gym today for no reason.

I have a hard time understanding: why mankind isn't more spiritually advanced than it is.

If I won an award, the first person I would tell would be: my brother Nick. Or my friend Michael. They'd be the first two, in any order.

I want to buy: world peace. Oh, okay...a plane or train ticket to a weekend beach getaway!

I plan to visit next: the gym tomorrow to make up for tonight's slacking.

If you spent the night at my house: you'd leave with a few hairs on your pants - my cat's and my own.

The world could do without: war

Most recent thing I’ve bought myself: groceries

Most recent thing someone else bought me: my friends treated me to dinner the other night. Then we got into a car accident. Good times.

My middle name is: Lavinia

In the morning I: build in snooze time of 30 to 45 minutes.

Last night I was: laughing with Rodney, eating healthily, and finishing Anderson Cooper's book.

There’s this guy I know who: is interested in a friend of mine. But he's feeling too vulnerable to contact him.

If I was an animal I’d be a: a house cat, no doubt about it.

A better name for me would be: I love the name Jacqueline. But I'm fine with mine.

Tomorrow I am: going to finally finish my Extras DVD (which is not as good as The Office).

Tonight I am: looking forward to reading more of The Lovely Bones.

My birthday is: March 7th

Garrett's

Walking in Manhattan
I pass a new store
And I slow down in shock and awe
And I pull out my cell phone
And frantically look at where I am
What street is this?
What street is this?!
As I call my friend Anika.

Anika and I worked together last year
Traveling the country.
Little overnight trips here and there.
One night, Chicago.
On the mundane trip to the Navy Pier
Where we were to hang out and rehearse,
Anika said casually, "We should get some
Garrett's Popcorn."

"What's Garrett's Popcorn?"
I asked innocently.
And her eyes widened,
And she couldn't speak,
And from then on she was on a mission.

"You've never had Garrett's?
How much time do we have?
An hour?
Let's grab a cab and tell him to
Take us to the nearest one.
Now."

Uh, okay.

We tell our colleagues we'll
Be right back.
We find a cab
And tell him our plan.
He doesn't know one off hand
But drives around.
We spot one.
There!
There!

He drops us off
But we ask him to hang out
To take us back.
He's happy to.

There's a long line at Garrett's,
As usual.
Drama ensues as the cabby
Gets a ticket for standing.
Anika apologizes profusely,
Paying him extra for the ticket.
He leaves.

We finally get our popcorn.
The caramel and cheese mix.
This is KEY, people.
I stick my hand into the greasy bag.
"Make sure to have both at once,"
I'm instructed.
We walk the streets of Chicago
Moaning and licking our fingers,
Trying not to finish the whole thing
Late for our rehearsal,
Planning to tell them
We surprised them with popcorn.
That is, if we don't eat it all first.
I never forgot it.

Cut to today, more than a year later.
Fifth Ave. and Forty-sixth Street,
The familiar blue logo,
The Garrett's tin.
Oh, my goodness.
Here in Manhattan!
I call Anika in awe and wonder.

She says this news is both
Exhilerating and horrifying.
We're both glad it's far
From where we live and work
Or we'd be going every day.

Then I look up their website
And learn a horrible fact:
There's a more convenient,
Second location
Close to where we live and work.
*sigh*

Yes. I'm getting some this weekend.

Lessons

My friends bought me dinner
Which was generous enough.
They then offered me a ride home.
Having a car in the city is rare,
Yet here they were, parked down the street.
My home is out of the way for them,
But they insisted.
So off we went, laughing,
Discussing this or that,
When at the intersection
As we continued going straight,
The car to our left decided to make a right
And did so, right onto our car.
(no, they weren't allowed to.)

Scary.
No one was hurt.
The damage was minimal.
The driver said, "My bad."
Info was about to be exchanged
But my other friend said
That she'd feel better reporting the accident.

The driver and his friend
(recent high school graduates)
Really just wanted to leave,
Nay, even give my friends
Wads of cash
And pretend it never happened.
Which made my friend more insistent.

Of course, it took awhile.
We were somewhat jovial with each other
But under our breaths my friend and I
Whispered our blatant judgements:
These are spoiled rich kids.
Like, arrogant, rich, and young.
The kind that would assume they could turn right
When they couldn't.

It never got heated
But when the cops came
And the kid driver
(whose fault it was!)
Gave my friends one last
Bitter spoonful of attitude,
They had had enough.
My friend gave him a piece of her mind.
"You need to learn a lesson!"

And when the kids drove off,
My friends seethed.

Safe at home
(without a drink...?!)
I wonder what my own
Lesson is here, having been a witness
And not a principal player.

Then it dawned on me.
Argh! That knot behind my shoulder!
The one that told me I'd been angry!
In these kids I saw you,
Someone who seems to want to
Weasel your way out of
The uncomfortable reality
Of facing your bad behavior.

And I see you in a different light.

Haiku corner: Making lemonade

Raining cats and dogs
Wear my jacket with lining
Canceled photo shoot.

Weight Watchers meeting
Doing really well thus far!
One day at a time.

Shivering at home
Want to just curl up in bed
Do nothing at all.

Time to go and swim
Nervous to try a new class
My teacher's so proud!

Didn't work a lot
Not much income from today
Oh well, c'est la vie.

Made another fish
I have a new favorite
Will make it again.

Because of the swim
I can eat an ice cream bar
I'm doing so well.

Anderson Cooper,
The book is quite compelling.
More than I'd have thought.

Take it day by day
It's the best way to live life
Discipline, hindsight.

Barreled through today,
Proud of my accomplishments.
Start tomorrow fresh.

Perfect Sunday

This is not the first time I've expressed just how much I value my day off.
Nor will it be my last.
But oh, how today has been perfect - a perfect Sunday.
First, lolling around in bed, awake and not awake from 9 AM to 11:40 AM,
My trusted kitty next to me, sleeping hard.
He's sleeping much more deeply than I am.
Upon finally arising, I notice the day is gray.
It is overcast - another reason to do nothing.
Not that I need a reason.
I waddle around the apartment, sore.
I make sure to strength-train on Saturdays
So that I wake up sore the next day,
A day of rest.

It's after noon when I make breakfast and think about what to do.
In the meantime, Dog the Bounty Hunter beckons.
It's a marathon.
Ah, jeez.
Guess I'm not goin' anywhere anytime soon.
Love that frickin' show.
Online, I get my weekly PostSecret fix.
Finally, around 4 PM, I run errands.
I need a few toiletries, and I get groceries to make dinner.
Which brings me to something new:
This is Day Six of Weight Watchers for me.
Yup, I joined.
So far, so good.
So today, I've decided I want to bake a fillet of fish for dinner.
I'm just gonna wing it,
Which makes me nervous.
I almost don't buy the fish.
But I do.
Courage.
I go home, grill some string beans.
Sprinkle some spices on a fish.
(Don't underestimate cumin.)
Three-fifty for twenty minutes, bada bing.
Lemon juice, bada boom.
Fucking brilliant.
I'm awesome.
Low-fat, delicious, and cheap.
What could be better?
I am ready for my weekly 60 Minutes fix.
Goddamn repeat!
That's okay, because now I can watch the latest episode
Of my new favorite TV show on YouTube.
I won't say the name of the show
Because it probably shouldn't be on YouTube.
But I'm glad it is.
So I sit and laugh at my computer, and re-watch favorite scenes.

Then, I have to start thinking about tomorrow, and the week.
Unfortunately.
So, I get a few things done.
Tomorrow starts six more days of "the grind," as well as hanging out with friends.
Not to mention figuring out what and what not to eat.
(Planning my snacks are key.)
My days are twelve hours long, minimum.
Once the week starts, I don't mind it.
But right now, I wish Sunday would last forever.

Where the hell am I?

First we get hit by a tornado today.
Now, it's late, hot, humid, and outside my window I hear...

crickets.

Crickets! In Manhattan!
Quick! Fire up a jackhammer.
How is a gal supposed to sleep around here?!

Heave ho

Being a relatively new cat mommy, I didn't realize I bought into some myths, like the fantasy conjured upon thinking of the word "hairball;" that when a cat coughed one up it would look like tumbleweed, all dry and linty. I didn't realize that "hairball" was really a nice way of saying gross cat vomit that looks like diarrhea. And, I mean, why wouldn't it, come to think of it? It's hair. In his intestinal tract. Coming out of his throat. Being rejected by its own body. Now I know. Hairballs aren't pretty. And I'm brushing him every day and giving him hairball treats and hopefully this too, shall pass. But not through his mouth.

I don't like to be naked around loud people...

...I thought to myself today as I stripped down to take a shower after dance class in close proximity to two elderly ballerinas who were having a high-volume conversation about an injury or something, and one of them kept looking at me. I was so self-conscious I almost drenched my towel by walking into the shower stall with it still around me. Damn ballerinas.

New York tornado

Thanks to Gawker.com for this picture.

I set my alarm for earlier than usual.

At 7:30 AM sharp the talk radio came on and said something about "flooding" and subways not working. My cat Oscar was reliably laying about right next to me, and I said, "What flooding?" But he just licked himself (ah, the life).

I glanced over to my window, and couldn't detect any untoward precipitation, or even a particularly dark sky. Besides, I'm a light sleeper, AND I went to bed late last night (or technically early this morning), so I think I would've noticed something.

But no. Apparently only about an hour earlier came a storm...a storm so strong, so Wizard of Oz, so treacherous, that it downed trees in Brooklyn, flooded parts of Queens, killed a woman in her car (I know!!!), and messed up each and every subway line.

Now, I've been a resident of New York for almost 12 years, and when Mother Nature decides to have a laugh at our expense, it would usually affect some subway lines, but not all. Alas, not today. Literally every single line in all five boroughs had some sort of delay or rerouting or were just plain not running, due to flooding. The subway spokesperson on TV suggested not to leave the house if possible. My normally half-hour commute took an hour. It was so weird.

*sigh* I hope this isn't a sign of things to come.
The truth is so inconvenient.

Letter from the trenches of the NYC elite - Broadway chapter

On a muggy, hot Sunday evening
Indulging in amazing Mexican food and margaritas:

"I'm on Broadway again starting tomorrow.
Want free tickets?"

Do I want free tickets?
Does the Pope shit in the woods?

The next day, Monday, I rang him up.
"Good morning," he answered sleepily.
"Good morning to you. Can I go Thursday?"
"Yes."
"I invited a friend who's a fan.
Can we meet up with you afterward?"
"Of course."

The next night, Tuesday,
Over an extraordinarily caramel-y pecan pie,
Broadway Guy's boyfriend said,
"Hey, I'm heading over to the theater now
To hang out after the show.
Wanna come?"

We hung out in the lobby
Waiting for the show to end.
I called another friend
Who's also in the cast.
"I'm here!"
"I thought you were coming Thursday!"
"I am, but I just came to hang. Wanna join?"

Cut to about five of us in the lobby of the theater,
Some cast members, some not,
Watching in awe and more than a little concern
At the frenzy of people young and old
Gathered outside the theater
For autographs, pictures, and overall elation.

See, Broadway Guy is returning
To the show that put him on the map
A decade ago.
He and his Hunky Co-star
Have swelled young hearts everywhere
By reuniting onstage
For a limited time.

The two of them, plus a former
American Idol contestant
Caused the mob scene we were witnessing.

A door would open.
Screams.
Oh, the screams
Like you wouldn't believe.
The Beatles in '64.
Elvis in the '50s.
Fans across the street
Standing on steps to get a better look.
Cars not able to get through.

Across the street is the stage door
Of another theater.
My co-cast member friend got off the phone:
"That was my friend who works across the way.
She's like, 'What the hell is going on out there?'"

Pandemonium.

We couldn't even see if Broadway Guy
Was out there signing autographs,
There were too many people.
Boyfriend got on the phone:
"Where are you? We can't even see you. Okay."
He'd gotten in his getaway car
And will meet us three blocks away
At a restaurant.
Wow.

Two days later, Thursday,
I met my friend outside the theater.
The line to get in snaked around the block.
Inside, we had amazing seats.

It was a time warp watching a show
I saw ten years ago
From the last row of the balcony
Before I knew anyone involved.
Thrilling, too.

The show ends.
Boyfriend is waiting for us.
"I'm glad but surprised
You're coming out tonight again," I said,
"After being out all week."
"Are you kidding," Boyfriend said,
"He made sure to remind me that
You were seeing it tonight."

While we wait inside for Broadway Guy,
Hunky Co-star comes out.
"Hunky, this is one of our
Best friends, Eileen," Boyfriend says.

I shake Hunky's hand.
I look into his eyes.
I could exchange pleasantries
Forever.
Broadway Guy emerges.
"Ah, my decoy," Hunky says.
Broadway Guy is going to greet the public
While Hunky and American Idol
Duck out another door.
Poor fans.
They have no idea they won't meet them.

Broadway Guy takes his time.
Hunky yells from across the way,
"Hurry up, your fans are waiting!"
He just wants to go home.

So, Broadway Guy will go out the door
And we'll meet him at the restaurant, right?
Like last time?

No, Boyfriend says.
We're following him out there
And getting in the getaway car.

What?

We're getting in the getaway car?
I looked at Friend.
This night gets better and better!

The door opens,
This time from the inside.
Screams.
We let the door close behind him.

Then Boyfriend says,
"Okay, let's go."
We open the door and
Scurry past the barricades
Into the waiting car.

Door shuts.

People (mostly girls),
Are crushed up against the car on all sides,
Sometimes rocking it.
Taking pictures, squealing,
Shaking Playbills in the air.
The driver is nonplussed;
Just another day.
Inside, it's quiet.
We're giggling.
We gossip.
We talk about the show,
The experience.

Broadway Guy is generous
And takes a long time signing things
For everyone he can;
He knows some have come a long way.

Eventually, the car door opens.
Screams as Broadway Guy waves goodbye.
We squish over, four of us in the back seat.

We drive for three measley blocks
And have a nice meal.
Friend and I go home
Sure to not soon forget the evening.

Like a vast, peaceful, empty ocean

I've been at my office job for nine years.

But only this week have I had to listen to two separate interviews with people who used the word "pacific" in place of "specific."

"Could you be more pacific about what you mean?"
"It was hard to find pacifically what I wanted on the website."

Grown adults.

Forget "No Child..." What about No Adult Left Behind? Who's spearheading that?